how lucky we are (to be alive right now)
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Remus has lost everything. Regulus is searching for something.:: Voldemort wins!au for Sophy


_For Sophy, a belated Merry Christmas _

_Word Count: 4017_

_No betas (yet), we die like men._

* * *

i.

It's a stupid risk, and Remus knows it. How many times have they been warned about not going to places like Godric's Hollow, hotbeds of rebellion that are heavily monitored by Death Eater patrols. Just last week, Marlene was captured while leaving flowers at the rubble of the once-lovely Potter home; Dorcas still weeps at night, knowing she will never have closure unless Voldemort reveals the fate.

He won't, of course. The rebellion is in full swing. Why should he announce every dead or imprisoned traitor? These days, it seems like there is more bad news than good, like their numbers can't seem to stop dropping.

But Remus cannot seem to stay away. Gone are the days of being the logical one, the voice of reason. His friends are gone, and he feels like there is nothing left for him. Why should he care if he gets caught? It's better than living in a world where Peter betrayed them, where James and Lily are gone, where baby Harry never lived long enough to take his first breath, where no one knows exactly who killed Sirius because, fueled by rage and a longing for revenge, he tried to duel a dozen Death Eaters at once, only to be hit multiple Killing Curses.

He is hidden under James' Invisibility Cloak, shielded from any prying eyes. Maybe that's how he justifies it to himself. He isn't suicidal if he takes half-hearted precautions.

The house in ruins. No one knows exactly what happened that night, but rumors travel quickly enough. They say he wanted to reduce the house to dust and debris, to remind the world that nothing can stand in his way.

Clearly he doesn't understand the human spirit. People really strange creatures. Tell them they can't donsomenting, and they will seize every opportunity to prove you wrong.

Remus steps up the foundation, among the shattered one wood shards of glass sprinkled among the wreckage. It is unrecognizable now. The cozy yellow walls of the kitchen have been reduced to burned pieces; here and there, he catches a glimpse of canary yellow beneath the streaks of ash. There are no signs at all of the happy times they've had in that house.

In the living room, Lily taught James about televisions. James had spent a week bragging about various programs to Sirius, showing off his super clever knowledge of Muggle things.

In the kitchen, Remus and Lily would bake cookies together. Lily had never been great at it, but Remus' mum's recipe never failed. They would laugh and eat cookies, always worried they would eat them all before James, Sirius, and Peter made it back.

They never painted the nursery. James would always talk about getting around to it. Maybe he would have eventually, had the news of the prophecy not come.

With a heavy sigh, Remus lowers the hood of the cloak. Tears cling to his lashes, and he wipes them away quickly. Truth be told, he isn't sure why he's here at all. It won't bring Lily and James back; it won't change a damn thing. Still, there's something strangely comforting about being here. It's almost like he can still feel them as he walks among the remains of the house.

"The Dark Lord said you might show up." He doesn't have to turn around to know Bellatrix Lestrange is behind him. Remus would recognize that voice anywhere. "So desperate to join your friends, little pup?"

Remus growls, drawing his wand as he turns to face her. Bellatrix is quick to act. Her hand is a blur as she slashes her wand through the air. "_Petrificus Totalus!"_

Remus doesn't have a chance to deflect it. The jinx hits him, forcing him to the ground, stiff as a board but still conscious of everything happening around him. His heartbeat quickens. Maybe he had known there was a chance he would die here, but he hoped it would be a quick and painless death. Instead, his final moments will be spent with the biggest sadist he has ever met.

Bellatrix kneels beside him, lightly grazing her nails over his cheek. "As much as I would love to hear you scream," she says, dark eyes flashing with something maniacal, "my master says I cannot play with you. Not yet, at least."

Remus doesn't know what that means, but he has a terrible feeling that he's going to find out.

…

"What do you know about the Order of the Phoenix?"

Remus shakes his head. "The Order is no more," he answers.

It's not the whole truth. Some still hold onto the title of the group; others have dropped it. There is still a rebellion. There are others who, under Dumbledore, are still fighting, regardless of what they're known as.

Bellatrix moves closer, pursing her lips together. Her dark eyes move over him. "Oh dear," she says, tapping her chin with her slender finger. "Lying is most unbecoming."

"Who's lying?"

Amusement flashes through her eyes as she draws her wand. Remus almost feels relieved. For the most part, this interrogation has been relatively painless. All she has to do is finish the job. The Order will be safe, and he will be ruined with his beloved friends.

The Killing Curse doesn't come. Instead, Bellatrix traces the tip of her wand over one of the many raised scars that cut across his cheek. She laughs, the sound cold and hollow. Remus swallows dryly, trying to remain calm.

"You aren't in any position to be coy, Lupin," she says. "Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I'll show some mercy."

"I'm surprised _mercy _is even in your vocabulary."

Without warning, she draws back, slapping him sharply. His cheek stings, but Remus has to laugh. He managed to annoy her so much that she abandoned magic in favor of physically striking him. There's something so brilliantly hilarious about it.

"Laugh all you want. Go ahead, you useless mutt," she says, regaining her composure. "You won't be laughing once you find out what's waiting for you."

"And what's that?"

Her lips twist into a dark grin. Once again, she reaches out, touching his scars. "Oh, but telling you will spoil the surprise."

ii.

For the first time in a long time, Regulus wishes he could see his brother. Sirius would understand his outrage. Sirius would know what to do.

Regulus paces the length of his brother's long-abandoned bedroom, shaking his head. How could he have been so stupid? Sirius had tried to warn him. Why hadn't Regulus listened? Things wouldn't be so fucked up now if he had just trusted Sirius all those years ago.

He can't keep pacing. His head is swimming, and his mind refuses to stop racing. Each step that he takes seems to make him a little more lightheaded.

Regulus slows to a stop, collapsing onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. Maybe he shouldn't care. Kreacher is a house-elf, a _thing _that is meant to be inferior to him. Why should it bother him that the Dark Lord borrowed his servant? What business is it of his if the Dark Lord is hiding something away in a cave, and that Kreacher almost didn't make it back from that journey?

But he does care. To the rest of the world, Kreacher is just a thing. To Regulus, however, his beloved house-elf is a dear friend.

He's felt this coming for a while now. There's a part of him that has never truly believed in the cause. If he's honest with himself, he had only chosen this path because of his parents and cousin. With Sirius gone, it had fallen on Regulus to redeem the family name.

Now what does he have to show for it? His brother is dead, and his master isn't who Regulus had thought he was. There's nothing to actually keep him here. Why should he be loyal to the Dark Lord?

The very thought of betrayal chills him to the bone. That way of thinking is more dangerous now than ever before. The Dark Lord is victorious; his influence can be seen and felt everywhere. There is no escape.

Regulus frowns. _No escape. _Sirius would have laughed at that and told him he's not being stubborn enough. He can almost hear his brother's voice in his head.

_"There's always a way out, Reggie. You're just not looking hard enough."_

"What do you know?" Regulus grumbles, closing his eyes. "You're dead."

But it's true, really. There has to be a way out, something he's overlooking.

He bolts upright, laughing. "Sirius," he says, slapping his palm against his forehead.

Sirius is gone, but the rebellion is not. How many times had Sirius begged him to reconsider? How many promises had he made whenever Regulus refused? If he can find the remaining Order of the Phoenix, maybe he can help. After all, he has something to offer them in exchange for safety.

Regulus can't resist the grin that plays at his lips. He can't believe he didn't think of it sooner. Now he just needs to find a way in.

His eyes drift to a photograph plastered on the wall. Sirius stands among his friends, laughing and smiling at the camera.

Sirius is dead. James Potter is dead. Peter Pettigrew is a Death Eater.

Remus Lupin…

Regulus tips his head to the side. As far as he knows, Remus is still out there. Remus had been close to Sirius. Maybe he will be willing to help Regulus out. It's a risk, but he thinks that maybe he has no choice but to take it.

…

Truth be told, Regulus is not his cousin's biggest fan. Some assume he idolizes Bellatrix and only became a Death Eater because of her. He's never bothered refuting it; in the end, his reasons are his own, and he doesn't care if the world is left guessing.

If he's honest, his cousin scares the shit out of him. Maybe she hasn't always been this demented, but he can't recall a time when she wasn't at least slightly twisted. Andromeda once told him that Bellatrix tried to force three-year-old Narcissa into the fireplace to find one what burnt flesh smelled like; Regulus doesn't know if it's true or not, but he wouldn't put it past her.

He needs her now. Regulus would rather deal with anyone else in the world, but all the little whispers have led him here. He hates it and finds himself cursing the universe. Why couldn't it have been Rodolphus or Corban? They're easy.

But Bellatrix…

Just the thought of dealing with Bellatrix makes him shudder. Still, it has to be done.

Bellatrix looks up when he enters the study of Lestrange Manor. Her lips quirk into a smile. "Look at my baby cousin," she says, and there is no affection in her voice, no familial warmth. "What brings you here, Reggie?"

He winces. Sirius used to call him that when they were kids; Regulus had hated it, but that only seemed to make Sirius do it more. He composes himself quickly, holding his head high and standing a little straighter. "I heard the half-breed Lupin was captured."

A twisted delight flashes through her dark eyes. With a laugh, she leans forward, rubbing her hands together. No doubt she wants to tell Regulus all the painful details. He wonders if she gets off on reliving the moments and remembering the pain and suffering she has caused.

"Fool that he is, he went to Godric's Hollow. He thought an Invisibility Cloak would keep him from being detected."

Regulus swallows dryly, nodding. He laughs because he thinks that's what he's supposed to do. Laugh, make her think he's just as amused by as she is, be the ruthless monster he's meant to be. "Idiot," he says. He's grateful his voice does not betray his nerves.

"Indeed."

He moves closer, sitting across from her. Every nerve in his body feels like it's on fire, and it takes every ounce of control to keep his breathing even. "What did you do with him?" he asks. "I bet he was begging for death when you finished."

"I didn't touch him," she says. There's a sick sort of amusement in her voice, like she knows the punchline of a joke that's too complex for him to understand.

"Then where is he? I know you, Bella. You've done something awful, haven't you?" Regulus presses, trying to sound playful and teasing.

She laughs, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, I haven't. But Greyback might."

iii.

Remus doesn't feel like a Gryffindor anymore. He remembers what courage is, and he recalls a certain boldness even under the looming threat of death. Those feelings slip through the spaces between his fingers, and he cannot grasp them.

He is afraid. For the first time in what feels like forever, he is truly terrified. Just like that, he is no longer the daring man who would fight side-by-side with his closest friends and laugh in the face of death and danger. He is a scared and trembling little boy again, and there is nothing but pain and fear and uncertainty.

Against all odds, he maintains his dignity as Greyback circles around him, grinning a predatory grin. His hot, sour breath washes over Remus' skin, and Remus worries that he might throw up. How may nights did the image of that monster keep him awake? How many dreams quickly descended into nightmares the moment that terrible face appeared behind closed eyes?

"What are you so afraid of?" Greyback asks, his words coming out as a growl. "The big bad wolf?"

"I'm not afraid."

Greyback laughs. "A coward _and _a liar." He smirks and shakes his head. "And they told me you were the good one."

It's almost laughable. A monster is debating Remus' goodness.

"I don't want to hurt you," Greyback tells him, reaching out and curling his fingers around Remus' slender wrist. Remus catches sight of the dirt and dried blood around Greyback's nails, and a shiver runs up his spine. "You're one of mine."

_One of mine. _The words make something inside of Remus twist painfully. He shakes his head, trying to pull away. It doesn't do him any good, and he just ends up with his back against the wall, cornered like some helpless animal.

"I'm _not _yours."

Another laugh escapes Greyback's lips. "Oh, but you are. I made you into what you are. You may think you're better than me because you have morals and all that bullshit, but you're not. You're a monster just like me."

Remus shakes his head. He is nothing like Greyback or his pack. They have embraced their curse and learned to relish the pain and suffering they cause. Remus doesn't. Remus tries to stay away from others. He still has his humanity, and nothing can take that away from him.

"Just tell me what I want to know," Greyback insists, his words bordering on urgency. He grips Remus' wrist a little tighter. "Tell me about the resistance."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

If he tries hard enough, they'll give up. They'll finally put him out of his misery, and all of this will be over and behind him.

"Stubborn bastard, just like your father," Greyback says. "He defied me too."

Remus takes a deep breath. He remembers all too well what happened when his father crossed Greyback. The scars that twist his body are a painful reminder of it.

"I'm not sure that you appreciate the gravity of your position." Greyback steps closer until he's nearly on top of Remus. "Only a fool would keep quiet."

Remus shakes his head. There is nothing foolish about loyalty. His friends would have died to protect the rebellion. Hell, really they had. Betraying that trust would dishonor his friends' memories.

Greyback steps away, taking a seat in a chair. "So be it," he says, leaning back. He whistles.

Two young men enter the room. Both have the same wicked glint in their eyes. One licks his lips and studies Remus with an undeniable hunger.

"Don't kill him," Greyback instructs. "Make him beg for it, but don't deliver that final mercy. I want him to remember what happens to those who disobey me."

Quick as a flash, they're on him. Jagged nails and sharp teeth rip into Remus' flesh. He tries to be strong, to not let them know how much it hurts, but he screams and screams until his throat is raw and aching.

iv.

Why does it have to be Greyback? Regulus doesn't frighten easily, but there's something about the werewolf that makes him feel unnerved. Why the Dark Lord decided to make a pact with Greyback is beyond him.

He shakes his head. There are many things the Dark Lord does that he doesn't understand. That's exactly why he is breaking away now. He needs something solid, something safe, something that he can call his own.

At least he doesn't have to face Greyback. It's a small mercy.

Then again, if Greyback finds him sneaking around the dingy, dilapidated mansion they call a den, he doubts there will be any mercy at all. Regulus swallows dryly and adjusts the Invisibility Cloak, hoping it is enough and he is hidden away.

Sirius used to use this cloak. Regulus recalls his brother felling stories about Potter's cloak, about how they would sneak out for hours. Severus always wondered how they never got caught; Regulus would never tell.

The building is disgusting. Dirt and dust have collected on every inch of the place. There are vicious claw marks in the wall, slashes ripping through the faded taupe wallpaper. The few surviving pieces of furniture are scratched and scraped, and springs poke out of the cushion of a weathered sofa.

Worse still is the smell. Beyond the stale air, Regulus can smell a faint metallic hint. Blood. It makes his stomach twist into knots. Regulus had always been more squeamish than he would like to admit.

After taking a few steps, he sees the pool of blood on the floor. It's big, but not enough to be fatal. A quick turn of his head, and he notices the streaks across the dirty floor, angry scarlet leading away from the sitting room.

Why is he here? He isn't brave like Sirius. This isn't the type of thing that he does, and he would be better off running away to some distant land and hiding.

But he doesn't. He keeps his head high and follows the trail of blood. It ends behind a door. A boy, no older than fifteen, stands guard at the door.

Regulus discreetly lifts his wand. "_Stupefy."_

The kid drops, and Regulus steps over his body. Poor bugger never even saw what hit him. Regulus almost feels sorry for him.

Almost.

Regulus opens the door and steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. Remus looks up, brows knitting together in confusion.

With a grin, Regulus removes the hook of the cloak. "Not quite the dramatic rescue my brother would have given you." He hurries over, kneeling in front of Remus. "But it'll have to do."

Remus doesn't look too thrilled to see him. Maybe Regulus can't blame him. After all, to Remus, he is just another Death Eater, just another enemy.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Regulus says.

"Where did you get James' cloak?"

Regulus glances down at the shimmery material that hides his body so completely. "Bellatrix likes to keep pretty little trophies," he answers, lips twisting into a frown. "Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I think you're a fairly logical bloke. Your odds against me are much better than against a pack of sadistic werewolves."

Remus hesitates. After several moments of tense silence, he nods and holds out his hand. When Regulus pulls him to his feet, Remus groans, clearly in pain. Regulus looks him over and frowns. Fenrir's pack have done quite a number on him.

"First order of business is to get you healed up," Regulus tells him.

"What's the second order?" The suspicion is heavy in his voice.

Regulus considers. Remus doesn't trust him, and pretending otherwise could jeopardize his whole plan. "We will cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, get under the cloak. Let's go."

v.

Remus never though he would ever actually see the inside of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. This is where Sirius grew up. This had been Sirius' greatest source of pain. It makes Remus' insides grow cold.

Regulus seems to understand. He offers Remus an apologetic smile. "It's the safest place for you right now," he says.

"Until Bellatrix puts two and two together," Remus says dryly.

Regulus shrugs. "She's smart, but it will take her a while to reach that conclusion, I think."

_Think. _Regulus doesn't like the lack of certainty. Still, he isn't in any position to argue. "Are you going to tell me what your big plan is?"

He hates the idea of being stuck with Regulus. Sirius tried to tell them that Regulus has some good in him, but Remus has his doubts. The black skull and serpent juxtaposed against his pale arm tells a different story.

Then again, hadn't they been so quick to trust Peter, so that he their friend? Now Peter is a traitor, and Remus' most cherished friends are dead. Why should he trust appearances?

"Let's get you in bed first. You look like… Well, to blunt, you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks." But Remus lets Regulus lead him along anyway.

…

Remus doesn't understand. In what universe is this even possible. Peter is a traitor, and Regulus wants to help defeat the Dark Lord.

"He's hiding something in that cave," Regulus says. "Something important to him.

Remus shakes his head. "You trust your house-elf on this?"

Regulus' expression hardens ever so slightly. "I would trust Kreacher with my own life," he answers, his tone sharp, daring Remus to argue.

Remus frowns. Trusting Kreacher doesn't seem likely for him. When the house-elf had brought him soup, he had ranted about what his mistress would think if she saw a half-breed in her home.

"And you think you can just figure it out and defeat him?"

"No." When Regulus grins, he looks so much like Sirius that it hurts. "I can't, but _we _can."

"Why me?"

There's nothing special about him. Among his friends, he had always been so broken, so useless. More often than not, he would feel like the others were carrying his weight. Why would anyone willingly come to Remus for help, especially with something this important?

"Because Sirius trusted you," Regulus answers. "Because Sirius thought the world of you, and I will happily trust my brother's judgment."

It's a suicide mission. Nothing good can come of this. The rebellion's defenses have been weakened, and it seems like it's only a matter of time before everything comes crumbling down.

In that moment, he feels the change. Only a day ago, he had wanted to die. He had been reckless and foolish, hoping the end would finally come. Now, his heart races at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they have a chance. If they can work out this mystery in the cave, then maybe the rebellion can have an advantage.

It's what Sirius and the others would have done. He knows his friends wouldn't have hesitated if they had a chance to make a difference.

"Where's the cave?" Remus asks.

"You really ought to rest."

Remus sits up. He is still aching and sore, but he doesn't care. His sense of purpose has been renewed, and the fire in his veins is enough to keep him afloat.

"I'm ready," he says, pushing his blanket aside and climbing to his feet.

Regulus looks like he wants to argue. In the end, he simply nods. "Okay," he says. "Let's go."

It won't be easy, but change so rarely is. And now, with a little luck, the world is about to change.


End file.
